


Following a Recommendation

by AlmostSilent



Series: Today Your Fearless Leader Is... [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, judging myself so hard, pretty much just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmostSilent/pseuds/AlmostSilent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is not a monk (despite what his friends would have you believe), he's just picky, but when he sees something he likes he goes after it with the same intensity and confidence he goes after anything. And the something that he likes happens to be the cute barista with shockingly blue eyes. </p><p>(or: The one where Grantaire is a barista and Enjolras isn't emotionally repressed)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Barista

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://almostsilent.tumblr.com/post/51801068357/brolininthetardis-this-is-a-coffeeshop-au) on tumblr. My first coffee shop AU (I am judging myself so hard for this).
> 
> (ETA: because of that whole ebooks-tree thing (information can be found [here](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Ebooks_Tree).) this is the official disclaimer that while I don't own the characters, I do own the work and I don't give permission for it to be posted anywhere else without my explicit permission.)

This day was not going well for Enjolras, he'd woken up from where he'd fallen asleep at his desk with a vicious pain in his back and neck. And really the shower had only done so much to help. Then he'd left the house only to find that his usual coffee shop had been closed down by the health department overnight (he made a mental note never to let Joly find out). So of course Enjolras had spent the next thirty minutes researching the other local coffee shops to find another one to go to. He was disappointed to find that there was only one with ethical business practices and that used fair trade and locally grown produce, which is why he had to overlook the fact that they seemingly didn't recycle. He was getting desperate.

He found the coffee shop easily enough, and was surprised to discover it was actually much closer to the university campus than his old one. He was going to be severely annoyed if the coffee wasn't actually good.

Fortunately he found a new reason to be annoyed when he walked in and saw the small blackboard on the counter with a message written on it in white pen. It wasn't the presence of the blackboard that Enjolras was frowning at, it was the message.

' _Today your barista is:_  
 _1.Hella fucking gay_  
 _2.Desperately single_  
 _For your drink today I recommend:_  
 _You give him your number._ '

Next to the message was a drawing that was recognisably the man stood behind the counter, Enjolras conceded that the drawing was technically good and whoever had drawn it was a talented artist, but that didn't make up for anything.

“Has anyone else pointed out how terribly unprofessional that is?” Enjolras frowned as he approached the counter.

“No, because this isn't bloody Starbucks,” the man laughed, “But by all means, I invite you to be the first.”

“Seriously, how can you get away with that?” Enjolras decided it was probably best to avoid the topic of Starbucks altogether, (Combeferre and Joly had both agreed that his blood pressure couldn't handle it).

“Well, for one I didn't actually write it, my coworker did as a joke, I just drew the little-me on there. And besides, I never write my name and drink recommendation down, because I'm all about challenging expectations and the people seem to appreciate my sense of humour,” the guy shrugged, brushing dark curls out of his eyes. His seriously bright blue eyes that were currently driving Enjolras to distraction.

“If that's what they said I'm pretty sure they were just trying to spare your feelings, because you're not that funny,” he grumbled, drawing another laugh from the barista.

“Well, it's always nice to meet a fan,” his smile was brilliant, “What can I get you today?”

“Just a coffee, with an extra shot of espresso and soy milk. To go,” Enjolras inconspicuously checked the guy's name tag as he paid and then the man busied himself making the coffee. ( _R, what kind of name is 'R'?_ ) Which of course led to Enjolras checking out other things. He's wasn't a monk, despite what his friends liked to joke, he was just usually too busy to date, and admittedly very picky about who he was attracted to. And R was definitely attractive, lean build and toned forearms made visible by his rolled up black shirt, and really, no one should be able to make scruffy stubble look that good. He just wasn't Enjolras' usual type, which might be what had Enjolras so interested.

Enjolras had been on plenty of first dates (a fact most of his friends, besides Combeferre, probably wouldn't believe), he'd been on decidedly less second dates. He was't going to waste his time on a pointless venture, Enjolras could usually tell before the end of the first date whether or not a relationship with the person could work. Nine times out of ten, the answer was no. But that didn't mean first dates couldn't be fun.

“There you go,” R smiled as he placed the cup down on the counter. Enjolras paused before pulling out a pen and scribbling something on a napkin, “What are you doing?” the barista frowned with confusion. Enjolras probably should not have found that look as endearing as he did.

“Following a recommendation,” Enjolras allowed a small smile as he shrugged and handed the napkin with his phone number over before taking his coffee and leaving. He was still smiling fifteen minutes later when his phone buzzed.

 **Unknown number:** I have no idea why you gave me your number, but I'm Grantaire.  
 **You:** I gave you my number as a precursor to asking you out. I'm Enjolras.

He had to wait three minutes for the reply and by the end of the three minutes Enjolras was just outside the library on campus, nursing his coffee. He'd added Grantaire's name and number to the contacts in his phone and was starting to question his life decisions when the reply finally came.

 **Grantaire:** Really? You want to ask ME out?  
 **You:** Yes. Would that be a problem?

The reply was instant.

 **Grantaire:** No.  
 **You:** Good. Are you free tonight?  
 **Grantaire:** Free as a bird.  
 **Grantaire:** That sounded far less lame in my head I assure you.

Enjolras couldn't hold back his laugh at that.

 **You:** I don't doubt that for a second.  
 **You:** So, do you want to get dinner with me tonight or not?  
 **Grantaire:** Of course. Just tell me where and when and I shall be there.

Enjolras paused for a moment before tapping out the address to a diner nearby, it wasn't too fancy but the food was good, perfect for a first date location. He told Grantaire to meet him there at seven and sent it before tapping out another message.

 **You:** I still think your professionalism leaves a lot to be desired, but you make good coffee.

Enjolras was inside the library settling himself onto a table when the reply made his phone vibrate.

 **Grantaire:** I have a feeling you're the master of the backhanded compliment. But I'll take it.  
 **You:** I will neither confirm nor deny these accusations.

They kept texting on and off all day and Enjolras didn't get nearly as much work done as he had planned. At all. But for some reason he couldn't find it in himself to care. The coffee really was that good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be noted that I am not entirely happy with this. Not really. I still like the idea, but not the execution? But I just can't re-write it (I know, I've tried). This is unlike anything I've ever written before but I needed to get it out of my system, and thought I'd share.


	2. The God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is basically the second half of chapter one, in R's pov.

Grantaire doesn't have much time to dwell on the impossibly hot guy who gave him his phone number because he has customers to deal with. Two college girls who order ridiculously complicated iced coffees with enough whipped cream on the top to send a normal person into a diabetic coma. But this is familiar territory for Grantaire, making coffee and dealing with customers.

When he finally has a minute to himself he adds the guys number into his phone, except he doesn't have a name. He stares down at his phone for a minute before typing out _'Apollo'_. Because it seems fitting, the golden hair, the burning intensity in the guy's eyes, but also because it's still pretty early and Grantaire thinks his brain hasn't quite switched itself on yet.

 **You:** I have no idea why you gave me your number, but I'm Grantaire.

It feels like a safe way to start, this way the guy had his number and he could decide what to do next. If he'd given Grantaire his number as a joke, then fine he could deal with that. But then the reply buzzed through and Grantaire forgot how to breathe for a moment.

 **Apollo:** I gave you my number as a precursor to asking you out. I'm Enjolras.

“Eponine!” Grantaire called into the back room, “You need to take over for me for a minute, I'm taking a break.”

“I swear if you've started smoking again I will kill you myself,” the brunette grumbled, but she switched places with him behind the counter.

“I'm not taking a smoke break, I'm taking a heart-attack break. Shut up,” he didn't bother waiting for her response before ducking into the back room where they kept inventory and typing out his reply.

 **You:** Really? You want to ask ME out?  
 **Apollo:** Yes. Would that be a problem?  
 **You:** No.

“Would that be a problem? He asks. My god,” Grantaire shakes his head, still staring at his phone in confusion.

 **Apollo:** Good. Are you free tonight?  
 **You:** Free as a bird.

Oh god, he was such an idiot. He really needed to invest in some sort filter between his brain and his actions. _'Free as bird'_ who said that? 

**You:** That sounded far less lame in my head I assure you.  
 **Apollo:** I don't doubt that for a second. 

And what was that supposed to mean? Grantaire was busy running over all the possibilities when his phone buzzed again.

 **Apollo:** So, do you want to get dinner with me tonight or not?  
 **You:** Of course. Just tell me where and when and I shall be there.

This was really happening. Grantaire was about five seconds away from a full-blown freakout when Eponine's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Seriously R, I'm not in the mood to be dealing with customers today,” she was stood in the doorway, which meant no one was behind the counter. He was muttering darkly as he headed back out, so he almost missed the messages that lit up his phone. The first was an address and a request to meet at seven, but before he could read the second there was a small queue of customers waiting to be served.

As soon as he had a chance he pulled out his phone to check the second message

 **Apollo:** I still think your professionalism leaves a lot to be desired, but you make good coffee.

Which seemed like an insult, but felt like a compliment and really Grantaire had no idea what to do with that.

 **You:** I have a feeling you're the master of the backhanded compliment. But I'll take it.  
 **Apollo:** I will neither confirm nor deny these accusations. 

And at that, Grantaire had to laugh.


	3. The Best Friend

When Combeferre came by the library after his afternoon lecture he was surprised to see Enjolras ignoring the books and pages of notes in front of him in favour of his phone, he was even more surprised to see the wide smile on his friends face.

“Who are you texting?” He asked cautiously as he sat down in the chair opposite Enjolras.

“Oh, hey 'Ferre,” Enjolras said looking a little startled, and really that was dangerously close to a blush, “Just a guy.”

“Anyone I know?” Combeferre said with affected nonchalance, opening his textbook. He had been friends with Enjolras for over ten years, he knew Enjolras would only tell him if he wanted to, and sounding too interested or eager would cause him to shut down. Talking to Enjolras about personal things had become something of an art form, or maybe a science, but either way Combeferre was skilled in this particular dance. Though, he sometimes had a bad habit of mixing his metaphors.

“No,” Enjolras paused as his phone buzzed, he quickly grabbed it. Whatever he read caused another smile to grace his face, this one much more subtle, the gentle curving of the corner of his mouth. He quickly tapped out a reply before looking back up at Combeferre, “Did you know the coffee shop closed down?” 'Ferre shook his head, “No, neither did I, some sort of health code violation or something. So, I had to find a new place to get my coffee and well, I got talking to the barista who works there.”

Combeferre has to work to keep the smile off his face, it really was good to see his oldest friend so happy. Not that he wasn't usually happy, but his happiness usually carried with it far more tension.

“What's he like then?”

“He's funny, in a way that's about fifty percent sarcastic and fifty percent unintentionally endearing. And he's smart, but I'm not even sure he realises it, like other than you and I he's the only other person I text who actually bothers to use punctuation and full sentences. And then we had this whole conversation about Kantian ethics but he'd already said he was an art student, so when I asked how he knew so much about philosophy he said, what was it...” Enjolras scrolled up through he texts, “He said 'I don't really, I just read enough to be able to bullshit my way through a conversation' but that's totally untrue, I mean I can count on one hand the number of people who can keep up a conversation with me on philosophy without...well, you know.”

And Combeferre did know, most of the people foolish enough to engage Enjolras in a conversation about philosophy ended up red in the face and blustering before storming away. On one very memorable occasion Enjolras had actually managed to make a philosophy professor storm out of his own lecture hall, people were still talking about it.

“Well, he sounds like an interesting guy,” Combeferre smiled, “Have you invited him to come along on Friday?” Enjolras was always looking for new recruits, people to help him change the world, which is why he started holding what Courfeyrac always liked to call 'Meetings for social justice and world peace and all that', which while being a little oversimplified was true enough. They met every Friday for the official meetings but usually ended up getting together most nights of the week, though it wasn't always the whole group. 

“I thought about it,” Enjolras confesses with a frown, “but his views are almost exactly the opposite of mine. I did actually ask him if he was just being contrary for the sake of it, but I think he might honestly just be that cynical.”

“Well, it couldn't hurt to hear a differing opinion every now and then could it?” Combeferre bit back a smile at the troubled look on his friends face, “After all, isn't he the kind of person you're trying to convince with all your speeches?”

Enjolras pondered that in silence for a minute as Combeferre scanned the page of his textbook.

“I'm meeting Courfeyrac and Jehan for a drink tonight,” Combeferre said as he put his textbook away, “I think Joly and Bossuet said they might try and stop by as well, do you want to join us?”

“I can't actually, I have a...thing,” Enjolras said looking mildly uncomfortable and that was another rare occurrence. Combeferre merely raised an eyebrow, “Well, a date.”

“Fair enough,” Combeferre would not make a big deal out of this, he absolutely would not, “I should be going though, I want to get started on that essay before heading out and it's already nearly five.”

Enjolras started at that, he looked thoroughly alarmed.

“Is it?” Combeferre only nodded before taking his leave of the library. He couldn't help but think that this mysterious art student would be good for Enjolras, he'd never seen his friend so happy and relaxed. And honestly it was a look that suited him.


	4. The Date

Enjolras is nervous, which is discomfiting because Enjolras is never nervous. When he makes a plan he follows it through with a tenacity that his friends respect and strangers are frankly a little scared of. But standing outside the door to the diner, Enjolras feels anxious.

He'd been texting Grantaire pretty much all day, but the thought of seeing the man in person again made a bubble of...something twist in Enjolras' gut and it was starting to really bother him.

But then he opened the door and walked in and saw Grantaire leaning against the counter chatting easily to the woman behind it, who was laughing and twirling her hair between her fingers. The anxiety was gone, replaced by an overwhelming calm (and only the slightest hint of irrational jealousy).

“Hey,” he said, coming up next to Grantaire with a smile.

“Hey,” and Grantaire's shy smile was maybe the most adorable thing Enjolras had ever seen and he was almost overwhelmed by the desire to kiss the man right then.

“You're wrong you know,” Enjolras shrugged, deciding the best way to avoid awkwardness would be to continue the conversation they'd been having via text an hour ago, “humanity _is_ inherently good.”

“Well,” Grantaire laughed, “why don't you order us some food while I tell you how naïve and deluded you are?”

“Sounds good,” and it really, really did.

When they were sat down with food in front of them but barely touched the initial debate had segued into Grantaire talking about his studies ( _“I'm an art major, but I'm thinking I might go for a minor in classics. I mean, I'm thinking about it.”_ ) and Enjolras mentioned the political activism club he ran with his friends ( _“I mean, our faculty adviser is the most useless...urgh don't even get me started. So, we run it ourselves now and he just signs all the paperwork we need him to, it works out better for everyone that way.”_ ).

“So, how many numbers did you get today?” Enjolras finally asks when he's almost finished his veggie burger with salad, “Because, I'm willing to bet you got a few,” But has he called any of them? Might be the better question. A question that goes unasked.

“Okay, so I'll admit that I was surprised by the number of guys giving me their numbers, and doubly surprised by the amount of them that were over thirty,” Grantaire gave an amused shake of his head, “But it makes it really awkward when I'm trying to be polite, because yeah I pretty much live on tips, and these guys think I'm flirting back when I really have zero intention of ever calling them.”

“I can see how that might be a problem,” Enjolras nods, trying for nonchalance. An irrational part of his brain was worrying that Grantaire wasn't really interested in him, that he was just being polite. Thankfully, the larger, more rational part of his brain interjected that you don't text someone all day just to be polite, and you certainly don't go on dates with them.

“I told Eponine after you left that she should just let me take the damn sign down, because if she was trying to set me up with the hottest guy in town, well mission accomplished,” Grantaire paused, “Okay, so slight confession, I have no filter, like none whatsoever. Really, it's a terrible affliction so I tend to say stupid stuff like, well, like that and Jesus I need to learn when to stop talking.”

“I don't know,” Enjolras said, trying to hide his grin, “I was kind of enjoying the rambling, it was cute really.”

“See, I'm pretty sure you're mocking me now,” but Grantaire was smiling too, “which really isn't very nice.”

“Oh no, I'm deadly serious,” Enjolras deadpanned.

“I can tell,” and Grantaire's grin was just too infectious.

The were interrupted in their their moment of stupidly grinning at each other by Enjolras' phone ringing from his pocket. He quickly took it out to glare at it, as though whoever had interrupted could see it. It turned out to be Combeferre.

Grantaire listened to the side of the conversation he could hear as subtly as possible, not wanting to seem intrusive, but being too curious not to listen.

“What's up Combeferre?” Enjolras sighed.

“No, everything's fine...I actually have no idea what time it is,” there's a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, despite the exasperation in his voice, “Is it really? That's good to know.”

There's a pause while Enjolras listens and he's not looking at Grantaire, so R takes the opportunity to stare. He really can't quite believe that this amazing, beautiful man is here having dinner with him, despite the fact that it is quite obviously happening.

“Yes, I did say that,” Enjolras lets out another sigh, “I know 'Ferre me too...Okay. Yeah, I'll see you at home.”

Enjolras puts his phone down with a slight frown, Grantaire feels the overwhelming desire to kiss it away. He bites his lip to try and control himself. He's not sure it's working.

“Sorry about that,” Enjolras looks up and has to swallow around the lump that's suddenly appeared in his throat, “My roommate,” he tries to explain, waving the phone in his hand slightly. Grantaire really needs to stop biting his lip like that, it's obscene, he thinks as he stands up slowly, “He has a habit of mothering me, but I do have an early class in the morning.”

“I get it, don't worry,” Grantaire replies with an easy smile, as he too stands.

Together they walk outside and the night air does clear Enjolras' head a little. Except now the night is over, and they have to say goodbye and suddenly he's feeling anxious again.

“I really wish I didn't have to go,” and he's suddenly acutely aware that this is a man he's known for less than twenty-four hours, “That sounds crazy.”

“Only as crazy as me not wanting you to go,” Grantaire is smiling almost shyly again and something in Enjolras reacts to that and suddenly he's pulling the other man towards him and pressing their lips together.

It takes Grantaire a second to react, but then his fingers are shifting through golden curls and he responds to the soft lips moving against his own. It's warm and gentle but still intense and insistent and when they do break apart they're both somehow a little breathless, despite it being over so quickly.

Enjolras can't help but smile brightly as he backs away.

“I'll text you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Guys I'm really sorry. I suck so bad at endings! (Which is why my stories tend to go on forever) I'm also not every good at writing short stories, my mind wants there to be so much more detail in this and for the plot to develop more slowly, but then it really would end up going on forever. 
> 
> Also, now I'm thinking of maybe turning this into a series? Writing more about their relationship developing and stuff. So, if that's something you guys might be interested in, let me know.


End file.
